A Question Of The Heart
by TheMarauderLife
Summary: When Demelza learns of Ross's romantic encounter with Elisabeth, she is overcome with emotion, making a spontaneous decision that has disastrous consequences. But will Ross be able to protect her this time, when she seeks to do something unforgivable? Serious Romelza Angst/ Fluff. Oneshot. WARNING: Contains references to sexual assault and physical injury. Rated M to be safe.


**My first Poldark oneshot. Thank you for reading.**

His words echoed in her mind, that soft whisper brushing against her ear. " _Meet me at the Boar's Head_ ," he'd muttered, the last time they'd met. She had been tempted- oh, who wouldn't have been?- but she would never have gone, never have dreamt of it. She was too loyal, too much of a lady.

Until Prudy had told her, that was.

It was anger that had driven her then- not lust or thrill or any of the devilish things she'd felt over the past two months. No, they would not be powerful enough emotions to warrant such a reckless decision. But anger was. And so was betrayal.

She hurried along the gravelly road, heart hammering and fluttering in her chest like a winged creature trying to claw and beat its way out. Her cheeks were flushed, her hands trembling, but there was a fiery resilience in her eyes that had never appeared quite so strongly. The sky was darkening to a dusky blue and deep down Demelza knew she should have been wary hanging about so late on this side of town, but all she felt was that engulfing rage that pounded in her ears. He had kissed her. Ross had kissed Elisabeth _again_ , and refused to tell her. After _everything_ they'd been through, after all she had forgiven him for. She had thought they had reached the point where they could be honest with one another, but obviously she was mistaken.

It was the way he acted so nonchalantly, that also sparked the bitter fury in her heart. How she, the wife of The Great Ross Poldark was supposed to just sit by and let him treat her like a scrap on the bottom of his shoe. Well, she was done with that. For once in her life she was doing something for herself.

With that in mind, she threw open the door of the Boar's Head and stormed inside.

However, she was disappointed.

There was no grand entrance or welcome- nothing exciting at all in fact. Just a bunch of grisly-looking men sat around, talking in low, gruff voices over pints of beer.

"What you want, Miss?" growled the greasy-looking bartender.

Her stomach turned; how could she think of drinking now? Then she thought of who she was about to meet and decided maybe she'd need a drink after all. "An ale, please." she replied, taking a seat at the bar. He handed her the drink without a word and she sipped it gently, smoothing down her long red skirt.

She was halfway through when she felt a presence behind her. She turned, for one wild, heart-jumping moment thinking it might be Ross come to fetch her, but in his place she found Hugh. Of course it would be him, she chided. Ross didn't even know where she was.

"You came." he muttered, eyes flickering over her face with a delighted surprise that made her heart clench.

She smiled in spite of herself. "I came." she replied, gesturing to the seat beside her. "Would you like a drink?"

He grinned, sliding next to her. "I thought I was the one who was meant to offer you that, my lady."

She beamed, finding herself falling for those warm, sparkling eyes and that boyish charm of his. Throughout her childhood, and much of her life with Ross, she had not been complimented the way that seemed to come so naturally to Hugh. It was strange, but surprisingly pleasant, and she found herself blushing at his flattery.

A few drinks later and Demelza was well on her way to tipsy as they laughed and giggled like teenagers. She noticed Hugh leaning closer and closer, and found she didn't mind. Eventually, he had placed a hand on her leg and was curling a piece of her red hair behind her ear. The blazing anger she had felt had begun to ebb, soothed by Hugh's flirtatious glances and boyish grins. He listened to something she was saying- _truly_ listened- and threw his head back with laughter when she had finished.

"How is it that I have come across a woman so incredibly exquisite as you?" he marvelled, his dancing eyes confirming every word.

She laughed, looking away from his fiery gaze. "You don't mean that."

He caught her face in his hand, gently persuading her to meet his eye. "But I do." he said, sincerely. "You are wonderful, Demelza."

They stared at each other for just a moment too long before Hugh jerked her mind away, jumping up and grabbing her hand with a grin. "Let me show you something." he said, tugging her from the bar.

Her brow furrowed, but she laughed and allowed herself to be pulled along. "What?"

He led her up some old creaky stairs and for one heart-stopping moment she thought he was leading her to the rooms where the harlots took their men. But then they turned and he pulled her into a quieter room- a library. Dusty shelves full of books ordained the walls, and a desk sat in the corner.

"My father often brought me here when I was young." he admitted, circling her slender knuckles with his warm hand. "To pass the time whilst he was... preoccupied with another woman." He was smiling, but this time it did not reach his eyes.

Demelza frowned, imagining a child-aged boy in a place like this. "That's terrible, Hugh."

He shrugged. "I didn't mind. They have the most wonderful books here. Look." He pulled an old leatherback from the nearest shelf and opened it to the front cover, where a name was inscribed in black ink.

"Richard Carson." Demelza read aloud, brows knitted together. "Is he not a poet?"

"He is." Hugh replied, grinning down at her. "You see, this is where I learnt to write poetry, Demelza." He ran a gentle finger down the side of her face, his voice soft and breathy. "And I am so glad I did, because now I can write it for you."

They were so close, heads bent together, mouths almost touching, breaths mingling together. Demelza felt her resolve crumble, felt her heart aching, reaching out for affection, for someone to hold her…

Then, she thought of Ross.

At first she thought of his recent betrayal, of the way he had hurt and mistreated her, acting cold and distant. Her heart stung as she pictured him with Elizabeth, the woman she couldn't live up to no mater how hard she tried. A beautiful, elegant woman- all the things Demelza would never be. All the things Ross desired.

But then she remembered the older times. The wonderful, beautiful moments they had shared together. The countless nights he had held her so carefully, whispering into her hair that she was the most beautiful woman in the world; the way his eyes crinkled at the corners as he watched her being singing to herself,or playing with their children, or walking through the cornfields. She thought of the way he watched her when he thought she couldn't see, his eyes a darker shade of lust. How her heart and soul still lit up when he said he loved her and the way he cared for people more than himself. He was so kind, so good, so selfless, and yes, he was reckless and oblivious and sharp-tongues sometimes, and yes he'd made mistakes and neglected her love, but surely this was no way to heal that? Surely it would just make things worse?

Demelza took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Hugh." she whispered, taking a step back. "I can't do this."

His gaze roved over her face, filled with confusion as he stepped closer to her. "Yes you _can_ Demelza." He grabbed her hands, almost desperately. "You and I, we love each other and… and we _have_ to be together. Love defeats all, you said so yourself."

She shook her head, releasing his hands with a sad expression. "But that's the thing, Hugh." she replied softly. "I don't love you. As much as I convinced myself of it. I love Ross, my husband."

The words took a moment to settle, and she saw the disappointment resonate in his face.

"Right." he echoed, stepping away. "Right."

"You're still young. You'll find someone else." she promised, gently. "I must return to my husband before we do something we'll both regret."

He nodded, swallowing hard. "And you're sure?" he checked, his tone holding just a hint of hopefulness.

"Positive." she assured, smiling slightly. "Go home, Hugh. Find the girl of your dreams who will be able to give you just as much love as you can give her."

He nodded again, taking her in before leaning forward to kiss her hand. His gaze bored into hers. "Thank you, Demelza. I will never forget you."

"And I you." she replied softly. That much was true- for he had taught her something that would stay with her for along time. A lesson that she would always remember.

She watched him leave with a sad little smile on her face, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. Somehow, she had found peace with herself and her troubled heart, and discovered what she really wanted- what had been there all along. Ross.

Smiling stupidly to herself, she waited a moment until Armitage was sure to have left and then made her own way out of the library, ready to head home to her husband and son.

She found her way blocked by a drunken figure, stumbling out of one of the other corridor doors. He was a leering, overweight gentleman who towered menacingly above her, smelling strongly of alcohol, and she tried to avoid his gaze as she slipped away. Too late, he'd spotted her. "Well, what do we have here?" he asked, a slow, slimy grin spreading across his face.

"Excuse me." Demelza said quickly, trying to move past him.

But he blocked her way, grabbing her wrist and pressing her against the wooden wall. "Don't play games with me, girlie." he muttered in her ear, his voice sending nauseating shivers down her spine. He thought she was some kind of harlot, running his meaty hands over her body- and the knowledge disgusted her.

"Let go of me." she ordered, her voice shaking only slightly as her heart thundered in her chest.

Slowly, he trailed a greasy hand down the side of her face and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at the straggly brown hair he'd tied at the nape of his neck, and that leathery, unclean skin. "And why would I do that?" he asked, smirking.

She bought her knee upwards as hard as she could and felt a sick satisfaction as his grip slackened and he bellowed in pain. She ducked down, trying to sneak past him as quickly as possible, feeling a surge of adrenaline pounding through her veins. But he was too quick.

One hand clamped around her stomach and the other over her mouth as he dragged her, kicking and screaming, along the corridor. Anger flashed in his eyes as he kicked open the closest bedroom door and pulled her inside. All she saw was a flash of a grimy floor and peeling wallpaper before she was thrown on the bed. He stood over her, triumphant.

"Let me go." she pleaded, tears burning her eyes and a sob catching in her throat. Her voice no longer held the steely note it had carried before. She was terrified- body trembling, heart slamming into her rib she, eyes wide like a startled deer.

"Too late for that, girlie." he replied, slamming the door shut behind them.

Demelza escaped from the pub an hour later. Her whole body throbbed- bruises were forming on her face, her hair was matted with blood and the pounding pain in her ribs made her limp as she hobbled along the track which would take her home. She was barely recognisable with her bedraggled hair and ripped dress, but she didn't care about that. Her body was numb, her heart frozen in place in her chest.

She limped along the path for what could have been hours or minutes. She no longer felt the pain that had been burning her side from the blow he had delivered to her stomach. She simply felt a constant, churning nausea. She stopped to throw up twice, but both times the only thing that came up was that awful, salivary bile.

It was dark as she hobbled up the path that led to her house and her heart burned with a new kind of pain as she thought of Ross. Oh, Ross, her darling Ross. What would he think of her?

She pushed open the door with a creak, but was met with silence. The faint flicker of candlelight told her someone was awake, waiting for her in the living room, but the rest of the house was silent and dark. Taking a deep breath, she shuffled across the hall over to the doorway to their front room, where she saw the unmoving silhouette of her husband. He was sat, facing away from her. She entered the room, half-bent, clutching her side as she leaned on the table for support.

There was a deadly silence.

"I see you have finally returned from your venture." Ross said, finally. His voice was sharp and controlled with barely-concealed anger simmering just under the surface. "I hope you found what you were looking for."

His anger was too much to bear on top of the raging emotions that attacked her internally, swarming her mind; and the throbbing pain that was gradually returning in her body. She felt her chest clench and throat tighten as tears pooled in her eyes. "Ross." she gasped.

At her tone, he turned, and an unreadable expression flitted across his features. "What happened?" he growled, moving over to her, his previous anger forgotten.

His warm, familiar arms wound around her waist, holding her steady,and the sobs broke in her chest, becoming uncontrollable. "Oh, Ross."

"Who did this to you?" he demanded, his anger quickly returning with a fiery vengeance. She could feel his body beside hers, tense with fury. "Was it Armitage?"

She shook her head, too overcome with emotion to speak, and his jaw clenched as he realised there were more important things to worry about. He would not be getting the story yet. "Prudy!" He shouted. "Prudy! Bring me bandages and a warm cloth!" He reached his other arm under Demelza's knees and picked her up easily, swiftly carrying her to their bedroom.

He lay her gently on the bed and a minute later Prudy hurried in, wearing her night gown and clutching a bucket of water. "Sweet Jesus." she muttered, eyes wide as she took in Demelza's bruised and bloody form.

"Go and fetch Dr Enys." Ross ordered. When she did not move, frozen in place, he glared at her, " _Now_!"

She scurried out, leaving him alone with Demelza. The sobs had subsided, but silent tears crept down her cheeks as he pressed the warm cloth to her head.

"Ross…" she whispered, her voice breaking.

"Shh." His eyes were incredibly warm. "Whatever it was, we'll talk about it later."

But thoughts were tumbling around her head. She couldn't believe she had gone to meet with Armitage in the first place. Yes, nothing had happened, and she knew now that it wouldn't have, but she couldn't believe she had broken Ross's trust like that. "Nothing happened with Armitage." she promised, her eyes wide and panicked. "You have to believe me. I would never…"

"Demelza, hush." he muttered, squeezing out the cloth. It was stained a worryingly dark colour from the blood. "I know that." he assured. "I was just paranoid, and angry. I know you would never do anything to betray me."

She swallowed, tears pricking her eyes again. Oh, how she loved this man.

"Just rest now." he murmured. "I promise I'll make sure nothing happens to you. I love you, Demelza."

She nodded, too choked up to speak, and clutched his hand tightly as her eyelids fluttered close.

"Dwight is here to look at you." Ross announced, appearing at the door. He had hurried away to answer Dwight's sharp knocks and returned with his friend close behind. For the first time, Demelza saw how tired her husband was- bangs clung to his eyes and his dark hair was ruffled as if he had been running his hands through it. Guilt shot through her heart.

Dwight hurried in, pulling out his suitcase and equipment. He glanced over her injuries with professional eyes before turning back to Ross. "I will have to examine her completely." he said. "I shall call you in when we're done."

Ross swallowed and nodded, reluctantly heading downstairs with worried eyes. Demelza watched him go with a deep, gnawing sadness. She had done this to him. She had caused that pain.

Dr Enys's hands were gentle as they fluttered over her skin, pressing lightly on certain sensitive spots. Demelza let out a hiss as he pressed on her rib cage, and he pulled up her undershirt so he could look at the damage. His eyes tightened as he saw the bruising blossoming out across her upper stomach and ribs. "Has Ross seen this?" he asked.

Demelza shook her head. She was tense, her body screaming in protest at having another man touch her who wasn't Ross. _It's just Dwight_ , she reminded herself, but it didn't stop the painful thumping of her heart.

His hands paused over the bruising adorning her upper arms and wrists and she froze, holding her breath as a crease appeared in his brow. Then, he continued, not hesitating again until he reached the same sight on the insides of her thighs.

Finally, he had finished, carefully covering her with the blanket once more. His face was grave, his eyes unreadable as he perched on the bed beside her.

She already knew what he was going to say; she could see it clearly in his eyes.

"I can bandage up your ribs to ease the pain, but they will simply heal best on their own. I have put some salve on the worst facial bruising and bandaged up your head wound, but there is not much more I can do Demelza."

She nodded. "Thank you, Dwight."

He paused, his eyes unreadable. "Demelza, you know what I must ask." He took a deep breath. "Did the man who did this to you… force himself upon you?"

She didn't reply, instead turning her head away so he wouldn't see the tears forming there as her throat began to burn. Her hands curled into fists, clutching the bedsheets beneath her.

"Demelza," he pleaded quietly. "It is important that you tell me if he did."

Her mind was racing one hundred miles per minute as she thought about all the things she could say in that moment. Finally, slowly, and almost imperceptibly, she nodded.

Dr Enys leaned forward, his body strained. "Can you give me a name?" he pressed.

She swallowed. "I can't."

He tensed. "Can't or won't?"

Her throat burned; he had no idea how much she wished she could. How much she wished she could change the events of this night. "Can't." she croaked.

He nodded and leant back as if that was what he had been expecting.

There was a pause before he spoke.

"You understand we need to tell Ross."

Her heart leapt into her throat and she sat up suddenly, ignoring the pain that burnt her side. "No, no, you can't. Please, Dwight." She begged, panic coursing through her veins as she latched onto the side of his shirt. "He'll never forgive me." she gasped. "He'll hate me."

Surprise flitted across his face before Dr Enys shook his head, his eyes filled with a deep sadness. "You know that's not true, Demelza. This is not your fault. And if we don't tell him he might expect things of you… Things you can't give him, because he won't understand."

His tone was kind, but the meaning behind it was clear, and she knew he was right. Eventually, she nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Would you like to tell him?" he offered. "I can give you some privacy."

"No." She was sure of that. It was unthinkable. "You tell him."

He nodded with a sort of pitying understanding, but before he could reply, Ross's voice cut into the room like a knife. "Tell me what?"

They both turned towards the door where he stood, sharp eyes flickering between the two of them. Demelza threw a panicked glance at Dr Enys.

"Demelza?" Ross asked again, his questioning gaze turning towards her.

Dr Enys cut in quickly, moving away from the bed and speaking in low tones. Demelsa squeezed her eyes shut and curled up on the bed, pulling her knees to her chest and ignoring the feeling in Ross's lingering gaze on her skin. She didn't want to hear this conversation.

"-your wife has bruising in the shape of fingerprints on her arms and the inside of her thighs, Ross," Dwight was saying, quietly. "This suggests to me that she is the victim of sexual assault… and she has confirmed this."

The silence was deafening.

"From her other injuries," he continued, "it appears she put up quite a fight… that it was definitely non consensual, but I'm afraid it was not enough."

"Sexual assault." Ross replied, his voice sounding almost weak with dizzying shock. Demelza could almost hear the thoughts whirring in his mind. "You mean…"

"Her attacker forced himself upon her." Dr Enys confirmed.

The sound Ross made was a mixture of a growl and a grunt. " _Who_." he ground out, his voice burning with newfound anger. "Which bastard did this to her, Dwight? I'll kill him myself."

"She could give me no name." Dr Enys replied. "But that is not what we must worry about now, Ross. Demelza is your first priority. You must look after your wife." He picked up his suitcase and raised his voice so it carried over to the bed. "I shall wait downstairs until you call me. Then I'll put the bandages on her ribs."

And with that, he headed outside, his footsteps echoing down the staircase.

There was a pause, and Demelza's heart pounded painfully in her ribcage. Finally, she felt Ross move towards her; He sat down heavily on the side of the four poster, but she didn't move, her body turned away from him. She didn't want him to see the hot tears rolling down her face, or glimpse the agony that was aching in her heart.

There was a thick silence.

"Demelza." he murmured, his voice cracking. "Demelza, please look at me."

His voice was a plea, so heartbreakingly pain-filled that she couldn't help but abide to it. His face was that of a broken man, and the sight made her heart clench.

"Oh, my love." he crooned as he saw her expression, stroking her hair and wiping away her tears with his thumb. He was careful to avoid the bruising, and she leaned into his touch, comforted by the warmth of his gentle hand. "My darling wife."

She lay in silence, her throat too taught to reply as she looked up at him.

"I love you." he murmured. "I love you so much, and I always will, Demelza. You have enraptured my heart, entwined your soul with mine."

His words were her undoing and she felt a sob catch in her throat. Soon, she was a mess- the sobs wracking her chest as she curled more tightly in on herself, clutching her knees for support.

Ross held her face in both of his hands, leaning close to her with an agonising desperation. "What is it, my love? What pains you? Talk to me, please."

It took her a moment to get the words out, for her tears were so thick and her chest so wound up with tension. "I'm sorry." She gasped, finally. "I'm sorry, Ross."

His brow furrowed with confusion. "For what, Demelza?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "For letting him… For not stopping him…"

His face tightened. "Don't you _dare_. That was not your fault, Demelza. Don't you ever think that. You tried, and that was all you could do. It is not your fault and you have nothing, _nothing_ , to apologise for."

"But I went there." she sobbed. "I went and I were tempted and I broke your trust."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, gaze boring into hers. "Then tell me, my love, how come my trust is still intact? How come love still fills my heart? My love has never once stalled, and never will, Demelza. We are all tempted, but you were strong. You are a kind and good and strong wife and I could not ask for more. You stayed true to your heart, and that is all I could ever ask of you."

His words settled her raging heart, but still the sobs carried on. Finally, he lay beside her, wrapping her in his arms and whispering into her hair until she had calmed and slumped, exhausted, beside him.

Ross murmured a message to Prudy, who came to collect the water bucket, and Dwight returned upstairs. He wrapped Demelza's bandages as she slept, her head resting on Ross's chest, and administered some painkillers.

"Will she be alright?" Ross asked Dwight softly, his eyes full of pain and concern.

Dwight sighed. "I cannot say… events like these, they have certain effects. They can prey on a woman's mind and soul, much like a war does for men. She may not be herself for a long while."

Ross looked down at his sleeping wife, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "I understand."

Dwight hesitated. "It may also mean you should have to obtain from, erm, certain _activities…_ "

"Of course." Ross said, sharply. "Do you think me some kind of monster who would put her through that?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry, Dwight. I know you didn't mean it like that."

He dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand. "It's fine. It's been a long night, and I simply know of other men who would not abide by that so agreeably."

"I guess by that you mean the vicar that you saw yesterday. Young Morwenna's man."

Dwight grimaced. "I should not discuss patients outside of my work, but I'm afraid it is an awful case." he glanced at Demelza's sleeping form. "I believe that girl shall struggle more than your wife, simply because she does not have a husband like you to support her. And she shall need it- your support, that is."

"She shall have it." Ross replied. "Unconditionally."

Dr Enys smiled slightly. "I am glad."

"And I shall not rest until that bastard is dead." he added, his voice frighteningly emotionless.

Dwight nodded. "And I shall help you in that venture, I assure you, Ross. Men like him should be hanged, there is no doubt."

Ross smiled. "Thank you, Dwight. You are a good friend- the best kind."

"Always." he replied. "I shall leave you two in peace."

And with that, he left the pair cuddled up together, his suitcase in hand.


End file.
